


Heat

by romanticalgirl



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacey has a fantasy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

I wake up hot and sweaty and horny every night. By the time my eyes open, my dick is soft again, my hand under the waistband of my shorts and covered with come. I wrap my robe around my body and sneak down to the bathroom, cleaning up before morning when my mom comes in and throws the covers off me to make sure I'm not doing anything "dirty."

The laundry room's downstairs, so it's easy to slip down and wash out my shorts in the bathroom sink then toss them in the dryer for a few minutes before heading back upstairs and to bed. I sleep on a towel every night, just to be safe. 

I go to bed and I try not to think about her. I try not to remember all the time I spend staring at her. I try and close my eyes and think about stuff that isn't sexy. Stuff like my English teacher, and dissecting worms in class. Stuff like baseball and getting yelled at by my dad. But when my eyes are closed, all I see is her. 

Her dark hair that curls in sweaty tendrils on her neck when she's working. She pulls it back and she looks so sexy when she swipes the perspiration away but those little curls cling to her skin. The way she hitches her body so that one hip juts out and she rests her hand on it when the guys are being crude or stupid or just wasting her time. 

I see her pulling her apron over her head when the day is done and she arches her back just a little and her curves stand out against her tight T-shirt and her shorts. I see her coming over to my table and sitting down across from me, grabbing my soda and taking a cool drink, the straw disappearing between her parted lips. 

My dreams are even more vivid, fueled by fantasies brought on by the barest contact in real life. The other guys in my class talk about girls all the time, all of us sitting in the locker room, relating wet dreams that get more outlandish from one guy to the next. I've recognized a few stories from my dad and Doug's hidden stashes of Hustler and Penthouse, but I haven't said anything. 

I know if I do, if I call them on it, they'll want to hear my story. Every single one of the horny thirteen year olds in my class will look at me and they'll egg me on and I'm scared to death that I'll have to admit the truth. 

That in my dream, I'm older. I'm lying on my private beach and the sand's just this pristine white, the water an unbelievable blue. I'm naked and I'm in this chair, reclined and just watching this jumble of colorful sailboats glide past. And then she's there. 

She's wearing this bikini that's nothing more than a couple of strategically placed strings. She straddles my legs, just below my dick and she's just looking at me. Her eyes are hotter than the sun as she leans in, her breasts resting heavily on my chest as she slides her tongue into my mouth, her hands on my shoulders holding me down so that she's in complete control. 

My cock is hard between us, and I can feel it against the smooth skin of her stomach. I feel like I'm fucking ten inches long and getting harder as she insinuates her body over mine. She stops kissing me and she just looks at me and my insides turn to this liquid sex as she tilts her head to the side and whispers my name in my ear. 

"Pacey, I want to fuck you." 

Then she sits up and reaches behind her, undoing her top. The bits and pieces of it fall against my skin and she trails it slowly over me before dumping it on the sand. Her breasts are full and soft as she lifts them up, offering them to me. I raise my own hands, large and firm and cup them, my thumbs sweeping over the erect nipples. She gasps softly and catches her bottom lip between her teeth, her hands covering mine. 

"Harder?" 

I oblige her, letting my fingers curl around the hard tips, playing with them with soft touches and teasing pinches. The rest of my hand cradles her, squeezing gently. She wants harder, wants pleasure, but I like teasing her, like making her squirm above me, feeling the dampness from her pussy soak through the thin material of her bikini and wet my skin. 

I raise up in my chair and put my mouth on her. Her skin smells like suntan lotion, a mixture of tropical smells like coconut and banana that just reinforce in my brain that she's good enough to eat. I lick the sweet tip of one breast before taking it in my mouth and suckling her, my hands sliding around her back and holding her there, captive. 

Her hands are in my hair, ruffling through it along with the warm breeze and she's whispering my name in this deep, throaty voice that just serves to make my cock even harder. I move over to the other breast and give it the same treatment, my teeth grazing the tight skin until she gasps and grinds her body down onto mine, her body shivering sexual tension. 

She pushes away from me, breathing hard and gets to her feet, her legs trembling slightly. She hooks her fingers under the string that wraps around her waist and pushes the bottoms to the sand. The summer sun is brilliant around her and I can smell the heady scent of arousal as I lower my chair until it's lying back flat and she straddles me again, her knees pressed against my shoulders and the soft, sweet pink skin above me. 

I suck on the swollen flesh, pulling it into my mouth and tasting her. She's wet and hot as my thumbs push the slick folds apart and open her up to me. My tongue pushes up to touch her clit, flicking across it slowly and languidly until she writhing above me, her hands grasping at my arms as her legs shake around me. 

Her skin is like liquid against my tongue as it dives inside her, bringing the hot taste of her into my mouth. Her clit quivers as I touch it lightly, my thumbs parting the slippery flesh as I concentrate on the hard nub, suckling it gently until her hands are curled into fists around the chair and she's thrashing above me, crying out my name as I eagerly lap up the sweet waves of her orgasm. 

She's close to collapsing as I help her move away, her whole body trembling. She sinks to her knees on the soft sand, staring at me with wide eyes. I reach out to touch her hair and, as I do, she lowers her head to my cock. 

Her mouth is like an oven, hot around my aching shaft as she takes the entire length inside her then pulls back, sucking hard at the tip. I moan out loud, my hand still stroking her hair, damp with exertion and passion and the blinding heat of the tropical sun. I can feel it curl around my fingers as her hand cups my balls, massaging them gently, her touch soft but firm, just like her mouth. 

My hips arch off the seat as she runs her tongue along the throbbing vein, pressure intensifying as she wraps her free hand around the base and starts stroking me as she sucks hard, her tongue licking away the moisture pooled at the small slit. 

My hand untangles from her hair and slides down her back, over her smooth ass and between her thighs, finding the wet flesh easily. I slide two fingers in and slowly begin thrusting them up inside her, groaning as she gasps around my cock, her body grinding down onto my hand. 

I can feel my orgasm pushing through me, my head light as a feather as blood and come rush down to greet her open mouth. 

She pulls away with jerky determination, leaving my body shivering from the lack of heat, of contact. She moves with determination, even though she's trembling. 

She straddles me, her body gliding over mine as she wraps her wet pussy around my cock, sinking down and burying me inside her. She settles above me, my hands on her hips then moving over her stomach to the warm curve of her breasts, cupping around the, kneading and massaging the tender flesh, swollen with arousal. 

My thumbs brush over her taut nipples, eliciting an excited moan of pleasure as her body clamps tighter around me. I push my hips up to hers as I capture her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She gasps and moans my name, the thick rush of her orgasm pushing around me as I thrust up, hard and fast inside her, my head tilted back, my eyes closed as my hips come off the chair, ready to come as she collapses on top of me. 

"Pace?" 

I jerk back, blinking rapidly as I focus and realize Dawson's face is right in front of me. "Gah! Jesus! What?" 

"You're just sitting there." 

"Dude, Pace. What's up?" 

I look around and realize practically every guy in our gym class is staring at me. "Nothing. Jesus. I was just bored with the same Penthouse bullshit. You guys are jerking off to Pamela Anderson. Big deal." 

Chris Wolfe smirks at me. "And who are you jerking off to?" 

"Your mother." I toss off the comment as I turn toward my locker, grabbing my clothes to hide what thinking of you has done to me. Everyone but Chris is laughing the nervous laughter that accompanies the knowledge that, as far as Moms go, Chris Wolfe's is hot and, knowing me, I wasn't joking. 

I move into one of the stalls and lean my head against the cool metal, trying to think of anything but you. I fail miserably as I turn and shove my shorts down, jerking my cock quickly to push myself over the edge, the picture of you still clear in my mind. I barely mask the grunt of release as my come spills into the toilet, a million miles from a quiet, deserted beach. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 9-1-01


End file.
